


Pulse

by potoyto



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Denial of Feelings, Feels, M/M, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Not Abandoned, Not Beta Read, TWs on Applicable Chapters, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2018-10-22 03:10:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10688571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potoyto/pseuds/potoyto
Summary: Set around S2, has crossover with Season 5 of Angel.





	1. Supraflux

**Author's Note:**

> Contributing artist: https://caraaah.tumblr.com/
> 
> Artwork was done under paid commission, following the artist's guidelines

[](https://i.imgur.com/L3RSlQW.png)

Willow and Xander sat under the buzzing lamp that hung above their table at the Bronze, heads resting in their hands as they gazed around the crowded club through masks of boredom.

 

“How long was it until Buffy’s s’posed to get here?” Inquired Willow before taking a sip of her Arnold Palmer; the drink already almost gone, supplemented mostly with melted ice, giving it a bittersweet and watery flavor. She scrunched her nose as she swallowed the tart liquid, her jaw tingling uncomfortably from the sour nature of it, and set the glass down on the table. She made sure to place it halfway in the ring of condensation left from where she had it before, ensuring that, in a couple minutes, she would have a watery Venn diagram.

 

“Oh, I dunno,” Xander replied, fake-checking his watch. “About 25 minutes ago?”

 

Xander re-set his elbow on the table with a sigh, resting his head back in his hand.

 

“Do you think she’s gonna show?” Xander asked, voice laden heavily with doubt.

 

“I say we give her ten more minutes, then we oughta just head home,” Willow replied, half-heartedly.

 

“Alrighty, sounds fair enough,” Xander said as he put his free hand up to his mouth to stifle a fake yawn. He wanted to give Buffy the impression, should she show up, that he was very bored and tired from the strenuous sitting and drinking sugary carbonated beverages. Willow, either catching on to his scheme or just being legitimately tired, retorted with a great big yawn of her own.

 

To help pass the time, Willow scanned the Bronze to see what everyone else was up to. She looked a few tables over and saw Queen Cordelia and her shallow subjects spouting pseudo-philosophical nonsense.

 

“I only date good looking guys,” Started Cordelia, “but not just because they’re handsome, but because they’re _more attractive_.”

 

Willow scoffed and rolled her eyes as the group of girls gathered around Cordelia ‘Oohed’ at, what they perceived to be, a deep, intellectual statement of wisdom.

 

“What does Cordelia think, she can just state the same thing in multiple different ways, and somehow make it mean something different by putting emphasis on it the last time?” Willow said quietly to Xander, who scoffed in agreement.

 

“You see, Willow, we stake vampires, but not just because they’re evil, but also because they’re _soulless, bloodsucking fiends_.” Xander mocked in his best Cordelia impression, earning a giggle from Willow as Buffy walked up to them, looking at them perplexedly.

 

“What’s the giggleage about, Wills?” The Slayer asked, inquisitively.

 

“Oh, Xander here was just entertaining me with some good, old-fashioned Cordelia-mocking.”

 

“Aww,” Buffy said with a fake pout as she took a seat at the table, “I always miss out on the good stuff. Stupid, dumb vamps and their desperate need for Slayness making me tardy.”

 

“So, how long did you wanna wait before going back to my place?” Willow inquired, looking anxiously at Buffy. “No rush or anything, it’s just, you know, we gotta be back by 9 o’clock curfew and it’s already 8:30, and I know it only takes 15 minutes to walk to my house from here, but we could get attacked by vamps, and we never really know how long a fight will last, and-”

 

“Willow,” Buffy interjected. ”It’ll be fine; we can leave right now and probably make it back to your place in time for curfew.”

 

“Wait a minute, hold up.” Xander interrupted as Buffy and Willow stood to leave. “Since when are we going to the Willster’s house? I mean, I thought we were gonna hang here, chat for a while, go out on patrol and then go to our respective homes.”

 

“Oh, sorry Xander, did I not tell you?” Willow asked with a nervous smile. “Buffy’s mom is out of town for a few days, and she wants Buffy to stay at my place, and told my parents to be sure that she was inside by 9. Oh, and, uh, my parents don’t want any boys over while Buffy’s there, so you can’t come.”

 

Xander’s heart sank as disappointment washed over his face. And here he was looking forward to a night of fun and excitement.

 

“Oh, don’t worry Xander, we can always hang during the day.”

 

Xander’s head bowed down.

 

“Yeah, not like we don’t already do that every single day.” He said, looking down, glumly, his voice low and sullen.

 

“How ‘bout this, Xander,” Buffy said, placing her hand on Xander’s shoulder. “After my mom comes back, you and Will can stay over at my place for a couple days and we can do nothing but hang, chat and fight the good fight against the evil undead. Whaddya say? We got a deal?”

 

Buffy reached her hand out to Xander and held it there. Xander looked at her hand for a moment, pretending to contemplate the decision before he looked up at her and smirked as he grasped her hand and shook it firmly.

 

“Oh, Buffy, you know I can’t say no to the idea of spending a few uninterrupted days with my two best friends.”

 

“Good,” Willow said, relieved. “We’ll see you tomorrow morning in the Library.”

 

With that, Willow and Buffy started making their way to the exit.

 

“See ya, Xand!” Buffy called out.

 

“See ya!” Xander called back as they disappeared through the front door, his arm extended up, waving, a big, goofy grin plastered on his face, which slowly disappeared as he turned back to the table and resumed sulking in solitary boredom.

 

‘Ugh, now what am I gonna do?’

 

He looked up and scanned his surroundings, his eyes landing on Angel leaning against the wall near the bar, staring in Xander’s direction.

 

‘Is he staring at me?’ Xander wondered as he looked around him to see if there was someone or something else behind him that Angel would be staring at. Not finding anything, Xander looked back to see if he was still being watched, only to find that Angel had disappeared.

 

“What the hell? Now, I coulda sworn I saw-“

 

“Xander,” Angel spoke, suddenly standing beside him, causing Xander to jump and almost fall out of his chair.

 

“Whoa, what the heck, man; you gotta make some noise or something if you’re gonna sneak up on someone like that!” Xander exclaimed, clutching his chest.

 

“Where did Buffy go with Willow?” Angel asked; his prominent brow furrowing as he stared expectantly at Xander.

 

“What business is it of yours, Deadboy?” Xander countered, defiantly. Angel sighed and rolled his eyes. He hadn’t expected Xander to be very helpful, but he had hoped that by now, he would be able to just trust him enough to tell him where Buffy was going.

 

“Listen, boy, I just want to make sure she isn’t going out getting herself into any big, dangerous fights that could get her killed.” He said through grated teeth, looking at Xander a bit more sternly, hoping that the intensity of his stare could make Xander crack and relinquish the information he sought.

 

Xander shot him a confused look. “Then why not just go chase after her yourself? You know, away from here?”

 

“Well, that’s the thing. Buffy says she doesn’t want me interfering when it comes to her hanging out with you guys for the next couple weeks, says she wants to dedicate all her attention to making up for her ‘supreme bitchiness’ from last week. But, that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna let her walk around at night without at least keeping an eye on her, so I’m going to ask you one last time: Where?”

 

Xander gave a long sigh before looking up at Angel. “She went Will’s place with Willow. She’s going to-“

 

“Thanks.” Angel interrupted as he rushed past Xander, heading for the side exit.

 

“Hey, wait up!” Xander called, chasing after Angel. If there was even the slightest chance there would be vamp-dusting, Xander wanted in. No way was he going to be stuck in the Bronze all night, bored out of his skull.

 

“Stay here, Xander, you’ll only slow me down,” Angel demanded sternly as he walked out the door into the empty alley beside the Bronze.

 

Xander half-jogged, half-walked to catch up with Angel, rushing a bit ahead and walk-jogging backward in front of him. “Aw come on, Evil Dead Guy, I promise I won’t slow ya down.”

 

Angel sighed audibly. “Fine, but I won’t slow down for you, so either keep up or don’t come at all.”

 

‘Yes!’ Xander thought to himself as he slowed to a brisk walking pace behind Angel. Even if he didn’t get to help fight some unlucky vamp who would try to tussle with the Buffster, he would at least be distracted from crippling boredom for at least fifteen minutes.

 

As Angel and Xander made their way through the alleyways, Xander had to admit it was kind of admirable that Angel was so dedicated to Buffy that he stalked her all over town. He also had to admit it was insanely creepy, especially considering that the flowing leather trench coat he normally wore gave him the appearance of some sort of stalkery sexual predator.

 

“So, do you do this often?” Xander asked.

 

“Be quiet,” Angel demanded dismissively.

 

“The stalking of your girlfriends, I mean,” Xander continued, ignoring Angel’s demand. “I mean, sure, for some girls, yeah, I’m sure it’s a huge turn on, but I don’t think Buf-“

 

Xander was cut short as Angel grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him hard against a brick wall causing him to shout in surprise, his feet dangling a few inches above the ground. Angel stood staring furiously into Xander’s eyes for a few seconds before he spoke quietly.

 

“The only way this is gonna work is either you keep your god damn mouth shut or you turn your ass around and walk home right now.”

 

The scent of Xander’s fear washed over Angel as he gave a nervous chuckle. “Angel, buddy, there’s no need to get all threateningly physica-“

 

A piercing scream filled the air, followed less than a second later by Buffy yelling. “You let her go!”

 

Angel abruptly let Xander go and took off in the direction of the screaming, letting him fall ass-first onto the pavement. Xander felt pain shoot up his back as he landed on the ground, causing him to cry out from the unexpected pain. Xander quickly got up, sparing only a moment to rub his sore backside as he chased after Angel.

 

Angel ran out into the open street to see Buffy in a standoff with a vamp who had Willow in his clutches, his arm wrapped tightly around her throat.

 

“Buffy!” He called out as he ran over.

 

“Angel?” Buffy muttered in a hopeful curiosity as she turned her head in his direction.

 

“Angel?” The vampire asked aloud in a much more confused curiosity. Seeing that the vamp was temporarily distracted, Willow bit down hard on his arm, causing him to cry out in pain as he wrenched his arm out of her mouth and quickly backhanded her, throwing her to the ground.

 

“Willow!” Xander cried out as he ran forth from the alley, adrenaline pumping hard in his veins allowing him to forget the pain in his back as he rushed forth to protect his best friend from peril. The vamp glanced over in his direction in time to see Xander’s angry expression as he was tackled to the ground by the human.

 

Xander did his best to keep the vamp subdued while Willow stumbled to her feet and rushed to the safety of Buffy and Angel.

 

“Angel, check her, see if she’s okay,” Buffy ordered quickly as she rushed over to Xander who was struggling to keep the vamp pinned to the ground. She pulled a stake out of her jacket as she roughly pushed Xander off the vamp and delivered a swift jab to its heart, sighing in relief as it reduced to dust before her eyes. She sat there, kneeling over the pile of dust as she opened her mouth to speak.

 

“What are you doing here?” She asked, a slight hint of anger in her voice, not looking up from the ground.

 

“I was trying to make sure you stayed safe,” Angel replied sternly in reaction to her anger.

 

She glanced over at him. “No, not you; I understand the whole 'you not trusting that I’d be strong enough to handle myself' thing. It’s kinda cute, in a very insulting way.”

 

Buffy paused for breath as she stood and looked over to Xander, who had just risen to his feet, brushing the dirt off his jeans.

 

“What I don’t get is why you’re here, Xander.” She said coldly, turning her whole body to face him.

 

Xander gave a nervous smile. “Well, it’s not like I had anything better to do, so-“

 

“So you figured you’d pair up with your good buddy Angel and make sure weak little Buffy didn’t get herself killed, again?” Buffy interrupted, glaring at him.

 

“Buffy, I didn’t…” Xander started nervously but stopped because he didn’t really know what to say to this sudden outburst from Buffy, anger slowly welling in his stomach.

 

“Buffy, I’m sure Xander didn’t- I mean, it wasn’t really his intention to-“ Willow began stammering, wringing her hands nervously.

 

Buffy saw the tension and pain she was inflicting on her two best friends and her features softened as she bowed her head, placing her hands on her hips and heaving a sigh as she shook her head.

 

“Look, I’m sorry Xander. You don’t deserve to get the bitchy Buffy treatment. I’m just…”

 

“Annoyed by me?” Xander spat.

 

Buffy looked up at him, eyes full of hurt. “No, God no, Xander, I’m just disappointed.”

 

Xander’s face twisted in a mix of anger and hurt. “What was disappointing, exactly? The way I tackled Mr. Sharp Teeth to the ground so Willow could get away?”

 

“No, Xander, I‘m disappointed in myself. I-I got cocky, thinking I had everything completely under my control. I let my guard down, and it was enough for him to grab Willow.” She confessed, tears welling in her eyes. “Willow could’ve died tonight, you could’ve died tonight, hell, even _I_ could’ve died tonight, and it would have been entirely my fault.”

 

Xander looked at the ground, hands dug deep in his pockets.

 

“Don’t beat yourself up, Buffy. It’s important that a Slayer be at least 50% cockiness, you know. I read it in one of Giles’ books.” Willow comforted, placing a hand on Buffy’s shoulder. Buffy placed her hand on Willow’s and looked up at Xander.

 

“I’m sorry, Xander,” Buffy said quietly.

 

“Yeah.” He replied, not really wanting to commit to any feelings of forgiveness just yet. It was too soon after the vicious callousness of last week.

 

“Will, we gotta get going.” Buffy murmured. She looked up to Xander and spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “See ya, Xand.”

 

Xander just nodded, refusing to return her gaze.

 

“Hey, here’s an idea.” Willow perked as Buffy walked on ahead, hoping to end the night with Xander on a high note. “Maybe, you know, to help pass time, you and Angel can go do a sweep in the graveyard to try and dust some vamps that… aren’t here because we were all fighting.” Willow’s perkiness faded as she noticed the area where Angel had been standing was now empty.

 

“I guess sitting around and watching us quarrel isn’t so much Angel’s ideal Friday night.” She said dryly, Xander nodding lightly in agreement.

 

“It’s alright, Will. I’ll be fine. My house is right around the corner from yours, remember? I’m thinking I’ll head there now, collapse into my bed, and stare up at the ceiling with the radio blasting some good ol’ rock and roll.” He said, light-heartedly strumming an air guitar.

 

Willow gave a smile. “Sounds like a good time, try not to have too much fun, though. It can give you cramps.”

 

“Same to you, little lady; see ya around.”

 

“See ya,” Willow said as she turned and rushed to catch up with Buffy, who was waiting for her at the intersection leading to her house. Xander took a few backward steps as he watched Willow round the corner with Buffy before turning the opposite direction, heading home.

 

He walked quickly, not wanting to linger alone at night longer than he had to. ‘Never know when a bloodthirsty vampire is gonna pop out of nowhere an-‘

 

Xander’s thought was interrupted as a hand shot out from the darkness, grabbing him by the collar as it pulled him into an alley. Xander tripped and stumbled as the shadowy figure dragged him into the alley, landing face-down as it swung him around and threw him to the ground. Xander quickly flipped himself over and looked up at his assailant.

 

“Well, think of the Angel.” He said with a sneer, standing to his feet. He readjusted his shirt as he glared at the vampire. “What’s with the sudden violence, pal? I thought brooding and teary-eyed speeches were more your avenue.”

 

“Well, to be honest, I don’t much care for the way you’ve been treating Buffy lately, and that’s got me a bit past the level of weepy.” Angel seethed through gritted teeth. Xander stared at him hard for a couple seconds, before he let out a loud chuckle.

 

Angel’s brow furrowed as his glare intensified.

 

“You know,” Xander spoke, pausing for breath. “For a second there, I thought you were serious. No, wait, you really are, aren’t you?” He said, returning Angel’s glare, albeit far less convincingly, considering he was well aware that Angel could rip him in half if he wanted. Angel took in a breath to speak, but Xander kept talking.

 

“Do you know what it really feels like? I mean, I doubt you do, because I will admit you are a whole lot better looking than I am, but still.”

 

Angel shot him a confused glance. “What are you talking about?”

 

“I’m talking about, rejection!” Xander spat. “Pure, abject, no-holds-barred, flat-out rejection, because that’s what I feel every time Buffy swoons over something you did for her, or cries into my shoulder over something you did _to_ her. I’m talking about having feelings for somebody, who would never, _ever_ return them, because they’d rather be with someone they’re _predestined_ to hate!”

 

Xander swallowed hard, unsure if the lump in his throat was from the urge to scream and run or because he was getting a little worked up emotionally, as he maintained his glare.

 

Angel smirked. “I thought you said teary-eyed speeches were my avenue? If anything, you seem better suited to them than me. I mean, really, you got some really good teenage angst pent up in there.” He mocked, pointing to the teen’s chest at the last remark.

 

Xander struggled to keep his composure as he also struggled to save the tattered shreds of his dignity. “Well, it’s not like I’ve had the most stress-free evening…”

 

“Oh poor baby Xander,” Angel condescended. “Did the girl who died saving the world, and your life in the process, seem a little upset over you expecting a thank you from her? How stressful life must be for you. Hey, I wonder what your breaking point will be. My guess is you get in a fistfight with a 5-year-old because she accidentally made you drop your ice cream, but it’s really anybody’s guess.”

 

Xander balled his hands up in anger, tears welling in his eyes. “You son of a bitch.” He flinched as his voice quivered.

 

“Oh my, _another_ witty comeback from the great Xander Harris, and what a zinger it was, too.”

 

Angel clutched his chest where his unbeating heart lay as he bent forward, false pain etched on his face.

 

“I’m probably gonna have emotional scars for yea-“

 

Xander couldn’t control himself as he delivered a right hook directly to Angel’s jaw, the bones in his knuckles cracking loudly upon impact. Immediately after, Xander clutched his hand in pain as red hot fire shot through it. He looked over at Angel, dismayed; he hadn’t even made him stumble. Xander barely even saw as Angel swiftly spun around, round-housing him in the face, sending the teen flying face-first into the brick wall.

 

Xander stood there, unmoving, keeping his face to the wall to hide the fact that tears were uncontrollably streaming down his cheeks, not wanting Angel to know he was crying.

 

“Turn around,” Angel commanded.

 

Xander didn’t move.

 

“God dammit, Xander, turn around,” Angel said insistently, taking a step towards him.

 

Xander inadvertently sobbed as he pressed himself further into the wall, wishing he could just phase through it. Angel heaved a sigh as he roughly grabbed Xander by the shoulder. Xander tried his best to resist, but Angel’s strength far exceeded his own. He found himself flipped around so they were now face-to-face.

 

Angel felt a pang of guilt as he looked at Xander. His nose was slowly seeping blood, it dripping slowly over his quivering lips, the top of which was split fairly bad, the cut seeping blood of its own. His eyes were red, tears spilling freely, running down and meeting the blood on his chin. Angel relaxed his grip on Xander’s shoulder, unsurprised when it was smacked away by the bloodied teen. He felt dazed, the smell of the boy’s blood, tears, and fear almost intoxicating. Angel swallowed hard, taking a reluctant step back, away from the overpowering aroma.

 

Xander stood there, glued in place, pressing hard against the wall, despite every fiber of his being screaming for him to run, fight or do literally anything else than stand there crying in front of the person he hated most. But, for some reason, he stayed frozen in place, staring hard at Angel, shivering in fear and anger.

 

“I…” Angel broke the silence, hands in his pockets as he kicked a nearby pebble. “I’m sorr-“

 

“Don’t,” Xander interjected, the complex mix of emotions marring his voice, sounding as though he were choking.

 

Angel shot his head up, shooting Xander a look somewhere between anger and understanding.

 

Xander cleared his throat. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry. I’m sick and **_fucking tired_** of people telling me they’re sorry after they bat me around like a punching bag.” Xander spoke, his voice still quivering as he unglued himself from the wall, taking a step to the side as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “I hear it enough from my family, my peers and my closest friends; I really don’t want, and especially don't need it from you.”

 

Xander started to walk off; proud that he was able to keep the very last ounce of dignity he had intact. Suddenly, his head felt like a million knives were poking and prodding at his brain, his vision beginning to haze. And as he collapsed to the ground, he heard who he could only imagine being Angel yelling his name.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know really know where this will go. Found it on a flash drive in my old room, and honestly forgot I wrote it, just changed some stuff around and revised some grammar mistakes. Was thinking about writing a fic lately, so I guess this is as good a start as any. I'll try to post another chapter soon


	2. Hypnos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a time jump from the resolution of the last chapter, trigger warnings for this chapter are abuse, bullying and NDE

[](https://i.imgur.com/AdAN7WQ.png)

"...and then wouldn't you guess it, Wills? Just when I thought I couldn't look any more pathetic, there I go fainting.  _Fainting_  in the middle of the alleyway like some... some..."

 

"Damsel in distress?" Willow offered, glancing up from her textbook with a perky grin. Xander grimaced exaggeratedly at the jab to his masculinity, bunching the fabric of his green plaid overshirt as he grasped at his heart with a groan. 

 

"I must say, it does sound quite peculiar..." Giles began as he pinched the bridge of his nose, musing pensively over countless scenarios and circumstances. "Yes… And Angel didn't mention as to whether or not by some happenstance he may have noticed any mystical forces or demons in your midst after you lost consciousness?"

 

"I can't really say, his royal Broodiness hasn't blessed me with his presence since it happened, not like he's generally inclined to spend much time with anyone except Buffy in any case," Xander remarked, bitter jealousy not a necessarily subtle feature in his tone as he harrumphed and unceremoniously planted himself into a cushiony seat near the library stacks.

 

"Still nice of him to carry you home, though." Willow chimed without glancing up from her book, in a mousey, matter-of-fact tone that told Xander that she didn't want or expect any sort of rebuttal. Xander furrowed his brow a bit while he muttered to himself for a moment, reclining against the seat and propping his foot up on the arm of the chair, digging the heel rather forcefully into the upholstery.

 

The issue of what had happened between him and Angel was a particularly vexing one, since he had no real recollection of the events which had taken place after he last spoke with Willow and Buffy. He vaguely remembered his conversation with Angel and that it had ended with some sort of scuffle between the two, but anything before or after was just a blur, and it gave Xander a headache to even try recollecting any other details, which was especially irritating given Giles’ insistence on pressing him for more details anyways.

 

Shaking his head, Xander reached into his pack and pulled out a crisp apple, and while remaining either blissfully oblivious or willfully ignorant to the scowl being cast upon him from the Watcher as he gazed disapprovingly at the underside of Xander’s second hand and positively worn through sneakers, took a loud, irritatingly crunchy bite out of the moist fruit, chewing loudly as he pulled out a fairly dated issue of Superman. Xander sucked between his teeth as a dribble of juice escaped his lips and trailed down the corner of his mouth, which was then wiped away with the back of his hand, which he promptly rubbed into the fabric of his faded denim jeans as he flipped through the thin, yellowed pages.

 

Giles cleared his throat warningly, his hard gaze unyielding as he bore through the insolent teen with the frustration and snobbish sense of indignation not particularly unbecoming of a British librarian. However, his plainly telegraphed disapproval seemed to fall on deaf ears, as Xander found himself entirely engrossed in the story weaved within the colorful pages.

 

Willow leaned forward and tapped Xander on his shoulder, gesturing to the annoyed librarian and back to his shoe, which had left a small indentation of dirt on the armrest.

 

“Oh shi- sorry, G-Man!” Xander exclaimed as he slid his foot down to the floor with a loud thump, brushing at the stained fabric nervously.

 

Giles heaved a sigh, removing his glasses as he turned from the teenage boy, averting his blurred gaze to the blob on the nearby reference desk that one would logically presume were books. “Xander, please do try to focus. Whatever would have caused you to lose your consciousness could have a far more, erm, insidious agenda than any villain in that wretched magazine.” He breathed in exasperation, polishing the lenses of his glasses.

 

“Actually Giles, it could be argued that the one with the truly naughty intentions could be the guy who is supposed to be on the side of good.” Xander waved the comic proudly as Giles shook his head in further exasperation. “Now wait, hear me out! In this issue, Superman’s, or should I say Clark Kent’s, secret identity is revealed to the foxy Miss Louis Lane, and then, like a total creep, he goes and uses his amnesia kiss power on her to make her forget about it. I mean, what kinda slime ball does something like that to someone who’s supposed to be their friend and confida- Hey, OW!”

 

Willow stood from her seat, one hand above her hip as the other one made a resounding smack against the back of Xander’s head. “Come on, forget about the comic stuff and be serious for a second, Xander, this isn’t stuff to joke about,” she scolded. “You could be in serious danger, and/or Angel too!”

 

“Angel’s in danger?” Buffy asked as she approached the group, the library doors clicking closed behind her as she strutted confidently towards them.

 

“Well, we haven’t quite been able to ascertain, Xander hasn’t been forthcoming with any useful details, though I doubt we’ll be able to get a clear picture of anything until we are able to speak with Angel… Buffy, when was the last time you spoke? Did he tell you anything about his and Xander’s encounter?”

 

Buffy concentrated for a second, “Well, we haven’t really been spending much time lately… on account of me telling him I didn’t really want to spend much time with him… and I haven’t seen or heard a peep from him. Not that he… _peeps_ at me very often, but I still usually manage to catch a sense of him near me at least once in a while, anyways. He’s really sweet like that, y’know, always following me around and making sure I’m not doing anything he doesn’t want me to and my god Angel sounds like an obsessive psychopath when I put it like that.” Buffy finished her rambling with a nervous chuckle, looking about to see that all of her friends had taken to staring at her as if she had grown three more heads and a pair of tentacles for ears.

 

“So… long story short, you haven’t seen him around lately either?” Xander asked with a slow nod, mildly amused by Buffy’s yammering and also grateful to her for distracting the others from digging into him any further.

 

“I’d say that more or less sums it up,” Buffy replied sheepishly, shrugging off her backpack, taking the cushioned seat on the side of the alcove opposite from the others. “So, spill Xander, what happened with you and Angel?” Buffy asked, her tone of curiosity gently marred by sharp undertones of something sad, lonely, resentful and bitter all at once and Xander couldn’t help but pick it out of the otherwise innocuous question.

 

“Well, not really much to report there, Buff. He lectured me saying stuff about how he didn’t appreciate me upsetting you and such, and I don’t really remem- “

 

“Ugh, that is _so_ like him!” Buffy interrupted, crossing her arms as well as her legs in one motion, her gaze downcast while she shook her head in disapproval.

 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’ve all come to expect a certain brand of possessive insanity from Angel at this point.” Xander nodded, speaking with his trademark sardonicism. Buffy lifted her gaze, narrowing her eyes at him. Xander’s eyes met hers.

 

“What? I’m just being honest, Buffy. You’ve always had a soft spot in your judgment for the guy, and you can’t tell me you didn’t expect that to catch up with you sooner or later?”

 

The Slayer opened her mouth as though to speak, the proverbial venom practically dripping off her tongue and waiting to lash out, but before she could let the first lash fall from her lips, she was quickly interrupted by Giles, who had stepped between the two, leaning against the stained mahogany table in the middle of the alcove.

 

“Xander, save the repetitive airing of your petty grievances for another time, this incessant prattling is wearing thin on me, as well as the rest of us, I am sure. There is obviously no further point in continuing this meeting, as it will only lead to more lost time and… errm, hurt feelings.”

 

Buffy put away her verbal claws with a shake of her head, leaning back against her chair and gazing off into the distance in the direction of the double doors, as Xander merely grimaced into the swirling pattern of the stained wood trim on his chair, running his fingernail gingerly over the scuff mark left by his heel. Clearing his throat and stiffening his back a little more, the older man continued.

 

“Buffy, our top priority in this matter is to speak with Angel. Regardless of whatever may be happening between the two of you, you are much better suited to locate him far more quickly than any of us, so that will be your objective. Ask him whatever he remembers about Friday evening, or at the very least, direct him to come to me so that I may gather the information directly. It is of the utmost importance this situation be taken care of before any potential danger gets out of hand.”

 

Buffy nodded, grabbing her pack and standing from the chair. “I’m on it.” She said with a tone of enthusiasm which was very obviously forced. Giles paid it no mind as he allowed his charge to leave, going so far as to ignore the not-so-subtle daggers she cast at Xander in one final glance before disappearing through the library doors. Xander let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding as he felt the tension leave the room with Buffy, as if it was just a miasmic cloud which followed in her wake. He felt his gaze draw towards the door as Giles turned towards Willow, continuing.

 

“In the meantime, Willow, I would like your assistance in parsing certain volumes for references to a prophecy left by the Monks of Galu’nagar, _A Treatise on the Unseen Plight of the Cursemaiden_ would be a good place to start if you aren’t otherwise occupied.”

 

Giles palmed a book off the reference desk, looking it over before handing it to the young woman, a look of exhilaration growing in her eyes as she looked over the archaic text.

 

“Is this 16th century Latvian?” she asked, flipping through the brittle pages as gently as she could manage.

 

“No, actually, but you are quite close.” Giles said with a bright grin as his eagerness for academic pursuits overtook his demeanor, stepping to her side and skimming over the page she was on. He pointed to a specific spot on the page, leaning down closely. “See this clause here? This phrase is unique to 9th century Lithuanian. The languages are nearly similar, but the dialects, err, the pronunciations and meanings of the words and certain phrases, I mean, are quite different. It would serve you well to be careful when concerning yourself with the proto-Baltic languages. I remember specifically, there was one chap back in the academy, he was a rather ambitious fellow who had quite overzealously decided he would attempt to translate the entirety of the companion book using ancient Latvian, primarily referencing the Semigallian root, but he nearly ripped his hair out after the first few pages because it was all translating as complete gibberish.”

 

Giles finished retelling the experience with a chuckle, and the pair shared an amused smile, Willow giggling rather enthusiastically at whatever image she had imagined in her head, likely something to do with a sparsely haired gentleman frustratedly screaming about cognates.

 

Xander sat awkwardly as he eyed the two, the churning of his stomach evident on his face as he let out a groan. “Geez, as much as I’d love to sit and witness this disgusting case of excessive intelligence, I think I might find place to read my comics where I can just let my brain rot without fear of succumbing to nerd poisoning.”

 

“Oh?” Giles responded, sounding more as though Xander had reminded him he was still present than as if he were actually interested in anything he had to say. “Yes… Xander, I do not think we will have any more need of you today, you may run along and… read your colorful hero stories. I will fill you in on any updates when you come in tomorrow morning for class… if there is anything to report, that is.”

 

Xander stood, slinging his pack over his shoulder as he walked backwards towards the library doors. “Looking forward to it, G-Man.” He said with a click of his tongue and a snap of his fingers. Giles responded to this gesture with the predicted unamused glance before turning back to the book in Willow’s hands. Turning to push through the doors, he called back “See ya, Will!” before disappearing into the hallway. Xander could hear a faint, muffled response, but it was already easy enough to imagine the farewell he had heard so many times before.

 

The proliferation of students in the halls at this hour was sparse, but not entirely clear. Some after school clubs were dispersing for the day, while others were still loosely gathering, some students choosing to loiter and socialize about campus until the last minute before moving on to attend their extracurricular activities. This gave the halls a familiar sense of hustle and bustle to them, but with a refreshing lackadaisical tinge due to the lack of any real need to get where they were going in any sooner fashion than necessary. Xander made his way over to his locker fairly easily, stuffing his heavier textbooks inside the confined space before grasping the skateboard he used for his primary mode of transport, clanging the metal door as he ran towards the exit, bobbing and weaving around groups of students and stragglers alike.

 

Xander had decided in fairly short order that he hadn’t really wanted to linger around the schoolgrounds much today, primarily due to the fact that Larry and his gang of slack-jawed lackeys always seemed to find him when he’s alone, which was a pressing concern due to the fact that he currently found himself fairly Slayer-deprived, and thus without protection. This combined with the fact that he was, in fact, currently on the Slayer’s shit list, gave him a certain unshakeable feeling of homesickness. And even though his home had never really been the shining beacon of solace most kids had, he had to admit his room would be a much safer and more relaxing space for him than anywhere else he could go in Sunnydale.

 

Xander quickened his pace as he passed by the interior staircase which resided in the main hall, practically breaking into a full-on run. Just barely a few paces from the exit, Xander found himself surreptitiously blinded by a flash of bright light just next to him, disorienting him just before unwittingly crashing into the form of Cordelia, the pair landing one atop the other—Xander atop Cordelia in this particular instance—on the off-white tile, his skateboard clattering across the hall.

 

“Get off me, you oaf!” Cordelia whined coarsely, pushing and shoving Xander to the floor beside her, standing upright with a huff to wipe the dirt from her black dress rather emphatically with several disdainful groans.

 

“Dammit Harris, you mangy ditz, I _just_ bought this dress!”

 

“Well excuse me, _your highness_ ,” Xander began with a groan, picking himself up off the floor and brushing the dust from his shirt. “I didn’t mean to sully the overpriced garbage bag.”

 

“ _Overpriced garbage bag_?” Cordelia scoffed, rolling her eyes and gesturing to the baggy black dress she wore which practically dragged across the floor. “This is an original made by Hussein Chalayan himself, an innovative and cutting-edge high-end fashion designer. This dress was imported from London and it was _very_ expensive. Just because it’s black and loose-fitting, doesn’t mean it’s a trash bag, you moron.”

 

“Gee, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. You see, when I called _this_ a trash bag, I was actually referring to the dress’ contents, not the dress itself,” Xander responded in kind to Cordelia’s biting remark.

 

“Ugh, whatever, dorkus, I don’t have time to deal with losers like you, anyways. You see, _some_ of us actually have a life!” Cordelia sneered, narrowing her eyes at Xander as she once again shoved him out of the way, stamping past and out the door to the school in her stiletto heels.

 

Xander shook his head at the ground with the same smile he used every time he wanted to pretend his feelings weren’t hurt, letting her biting words roll off his metaphorical hide. Glancing up, he managed to see just in time to watch her form disappear through the front entrance and flounce off into the courtyard. And as the door swung closed, he shifted his attention to figuring out where his board had skittered off to.

 

“Really, Harris, was that any way to talk to a fine young specimen such as that?” Xander glanced over to see who this particularly snarky sounding voice belonged to and found his eyes viciously assaulted by a tacky fluorescent pink Hawaiian shirt attached to none other than Eric Gittleson, who had an equally repugnant patch of scraggly facial hair noticeably growing—well perhaps less growing and more _protruding_ —from his chin. Eric lifted his arm, handing Xander’s skateboard to him.

 

“Well there really isn’t any better way to talk to someone as shallow and vapid as Cordelia, especially when they insist on spewing disproportionately larger quantities of venom than even the deadliest of snakes are capable of.” Xander chuckled as he stuck his skateboard under his arm a little more snugly, glancing over with a smirk before taking notice of the camera dangling around his neck. “What’s this here?”

 

“Little side project I’ve got going on, very confidential, y’know, hush hush. Been takin’ some pictures of the girls around the school… for my private collection, of course.” Eric responded with a wink that made Xander squirm uncomfortably within the pit of his soul.  Eric had a history, a reputation, one that was pretty damn slimy and full of the grody levels of depravity one would expect to see in burgeoning serial rapists, and usually the things he’d done would have gotten him expelled from any self-respecting school, but he had always managed to slip just under the radar, as far as actual authorities would go.

 

“Well as much fun as that sounds, I honestly don’t feel like getting caught up in whatever future criminal case that’s gonna land you in so I’m just gonna go…“ Xander grinned nervously, backing up towards the entryway. He made it only a few feet before Eric turned and booked it down the hallway without so much as a returned farewell. Xander almost called out to ask what was wrong, only to feel his heart jump into his throat as a familiar large, firm hand gripped his shoulder.  
  
“Leaving so soon, Harris?”

 

Xander gulped audibly around the lump in his throat.

 

“L-Larry,” Xander began, turning to look said bully in the eye while simultaneously attempting to shrug his way out of his grip. This only earned Xander a second steely grip from the overgrown bully, cementing him at arm’s length. Glancing about, Xander noticed that he was being largely ignored by his fellow classmates, and the few who actually would take notice were giggling to themselves as they imagined Xander’s fate in Larry’s cruel hands.

 

“The matter, Harris? _Thirsty?”_ Larry sneered insidiously behind a malicious grin, using his bulk to drive Xander backwards.  Xander did not have to imagine where he was going as he stumbled back dumbly in time with the hulking brute’s strides, stammering half-baked euphemisms about as fast as his mouth could rattle them out, not really taking the time to consider whether or not they actually made some form of sense.

 

“Y’know I actually don’t feel all that parched, _really_.” Xander pled as the bully pushed him through the swinging door to the boy’s restroom, his board catching on the frame and falling once again from his grasp just as soon as he had remembered he had it. Xander cursed himself mentally for not remembering it sooner, for not being resourceful enough to help himself. The board clattered noisily, echoing throughout the empty bathroom as it rolled toward the nearest stall.

 

“Sorry, but I really don’t believe you. I feel like I know you pretty well, and I’ve always considered us good buddies, Harris,” Larry monologued, as he shoved Xander backwards into the bathroom stall, the swinging door falling closed, leaving the pair bathed in the scarce light given off by the half-lit, crackling fluorescent bulb which ran down the length of the room. Larry kicked Xander’s board away, recognizing its potential use, and it landed propped on one wheel against the door, and Xander saw it after he stumbled to the ground, landing sprawled before Larry in the dirty stall, his heart sinking as he was further deprived of his only usable weapon.

 

“Buddies always look out for each other,” Larry continued, grasping Xander by the collar and using his experience as a wrestler on the school team to reverse the hold so that Xander now sat on his knees in front of the toilet, Larry’s obnoxiously thick arm wedged beneath his chin, holding him there in a choke hold. “And if I say you seem thirsty, that means that I want to make sure you stay hydrated. So please, have a drink.”

 

Larry changed his grip, fisting Xander’s hair and pushing his face toward the dirty bowl. In spite of Xander’s squirms, Larry was much stronger than he was, using his weight to plunge his face into the acrid, yellow water. Xander thrashed as the liquid entered his nose and prompted his mouth to open instinctively, forcing him to accidentally swallow a mouthful. Xander choked and retched violently at the salty, bitter taste as Larry laughed viciously, pressing down harder in his glee and pressing Xander’s face into the drain. Reaching over, Larry depressed the lever with an added giggle, causing the water level to rise even higher and fully submerge Xander’s head, flooding his ears and nearly completely cutting off his hearing.

 

Normally Larry’s goons would have had Larry ease up by now, usually in order to shove toilet paper in his face, scribble disturbing messages on whatever dry parts of his skin they could find, or just give him a couple old fashioned socks to the face before leaving him battered and soaked on the bathroom floor. However, Xander found himself squarely in the unique predicament where Larry had complete and unrestrained access to him on all fronts, leaving him completely at the larger boy’s mercy as he struggled desperately to come up for even the slightest breath of air. The seconds passed agonizingly slow, and Xander was distantly aware of the guttural noises leaving his body as Larry seemed to almost purr with excitement at the thrill of the vicious assault he was carrying out singlehandedly, his voice muffled almost entirely by the water clogging his ears.

 

Xander’s thrashing became more violent as his lungs burned with both the need to breathe as well as the emergent need to expel the liquid from his lungs, but the more he fought against the larger, solid body against his, the more water he would unwittingly take in and the more tired he quickly became, and darkness quickly prickled at the edges of his vision. Larry didn’t seem like he would let up anytime soon, the realization falling on Xander that this just might be where his life ends. After a year of fighting the good fight against the supernatural, unholy demons, and forces of darkness, his demise would come about because he wasn’t strong enough, cunning enough or fast enough to best Larry.

Xander fell limp as his body began to give out, Larry still too engrossed in his ecstasy to notice his waning life force. Xander tried his hardest, willing his limbs to move, but he now felt paralyzed, stunned as his body attempted to conserve the last remaining vestiges of its energy. So, when he felt the bruising force of Larry’s hands ripped away and his crushing weight torn off of him, he remained lying face down in the toilet, listless and unmoving. His consciousness began to blur, sense of time distorted as countless hours passed in the blink of an eye. It seemed like an eternity before he was pulled out of the toilet, landing somewhere on his back, looking upwards into a faded grungy haze outlined by the darkness of oblivion. The form of… someone looked down upon him, and it felt surreal as the form was silhouetted against the dull light, giving them an ethereal glow. They attempted to speak to him, and Xander felt as the otherworldly being shook him and felt for his pulse, as if hoping to rouse his body as he had hoped to do through his conscientious efforts.

 

It was all so strange; he could feel the desperation in their hands as they worked to stir his heart and lungs to activity, but it all passed in slow motion and it felt like he was sitting all alone in a large, empty theater, watching everything from a detached perspective. It was like he was there, but at the same time he wasn’t. He wasn’t there when his heart began to stir, he wasn’t there when he gagged and coughed up all the water from his burning lungs, and he wasn’t there as he flipped himself over and heaved all the water he swallowed onto the cold tile floor. It wasn’t until he took in his first shaky breath of desperately needed air, hunched over against the tile floor, now warmed by his vomit, that he felt himself snap back into existence.

 

“Xander…” A familiar voice prodded into his headspace, and he felt a large hand on his back.

 

Xander look to the figure, haze clearing from his vision as he stared directly into the eyes of his savior.

 

“Ang…el?” Xander’s throat felt rough and raw as he choked out the name.

 

“Shh, don’t talk.” Angel soothed in an uncharacteristically warm fashion. “Your voice is bound to be sore, you were screaming for help. I’m surprised I’m the only person who came to you, all those people out there, they must have heard...”

 

Although his limbs felt sore, Xander still fought to distance himself from Angel, scooting across the floor and putting a good three feet between the two of them. He didn’t trust Angel. He was too much a wildcard, too much of a risk.

 

Too close in an enclosed dark space when he was too weak to do much else than scuttle across the floor like an injured rodent.

  
“What are… you doing… here?” Xander rasped painfully as he stared Angel down where he sat, crouched to his level.

 

“Really, that’s the thanks I get?” Angel shook his head, obviously stung by the mistrust. Xander almost felt bad for judging, but in his mind, Angel didn’t deserve much of the benefit of the doubt.

 

“Answer… the q-question.” Xander insisted, his voice cracking from the abuse.

 

Angel stood up, straightening his back while nonchalantly rubbing his neck. “Listen, I was looking for Buffy.”

 

“In the… b-boy’s room?”

 

“Shut up, I mean it, you keep that up and you won’t be able to talk for a month.” Angel scolded once again. “Which might not be such a bad thing…” He added under his breath, and Xander felt cowed as he fought the urge to lash out again, to rebut against that last remark and not let Angel have the last word, but he knew he was right.

 

“I was in the maintenance closet, there is a path through the vents that leads down to the sewers. I was waiting until it calmed down out there before I went to see Buffy in the library. She’s usually there until after sundown anyway, so I figured I had time. That’s when I heard the commotion and came in here to find this guy trying his hand at attempted murder.” Angel gestured to the corner where Larry lay in a crumpled heap, a stream of blood running down his face. Xander’s heart jumped in his chest before he realized Larry was still alive. As much as he was glad to see Larry hurt, if Angel killed him to protect him, he would still feel the weight of his death on his conscience.

 

“He’ll live.” Angel said, answering the question Xander had already deduced through observation. Xander swallowed another sarcastic retort, merely nodding before putting his hand out to Angel, which the vampire grasped and help pull Xander up to his feet before wrapping his strong, leather clad arm around his torso. Xander fought hard to suppress the squeak that rose in his throat at the sudden contact with Angel’s cold, firm body as he aided him in hobbling out of the bathroom.

 

“Thanks.” Xander whispered hoarsely as they approached the door, a sense of sincere gratitude raising in him as he fought to suppress it. “Yeah, don’t mention it.” Came the familiarly cool, almost dismissive reply Xander almost expected from people at this point. There was definitely a part of the way Angel said it that made him question Angel’s attachment to his perceived gratitude, as if the extent to which Angel projected his ambivalence was more measured than he had intended to reveal, making Xander faintly question some part of the vampire’s sincerity.  

 

Regardless of his veiled intentions, however, Angel had still saved his life, there was no changing that. And as much as he wanted to continue distrusting him, there was obviously something under the surface that Xander hadn’t considered, or been in a position to consider, before. Xander resolved, whether conscientiously or otherwise, that he would, at least to the best of his ability, grant Angel some semblance of the benefit of some sort of doubt, even if it flew in the face of everything his brain burned to believe and hold as truth.

 

As Angel reached out and pulled the door open, Xander’s skateboard clattered away from its perch against the door. Xander regarded it near contemptuously before kicking it to the wayside, and the pair stepped out into the now clear hallway, the waning light of the sun filtering through the windows as dusk set in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cannoli, there it is. I know it has been a very long time coming, but I can't even tell you guys how many times I typed out a 3k-4k word chapter only to end up scrapping it and starting over. It has been a struggle to attempt to match the tone set by the first chapter, but I feel as if I've made the best approximation I could. 
> 
> From now on I can guarantee chapters should roll out far more quickly, as I have a far more solid foundation to work off than before. No more year+ waits for chapters I promise! The chapters will also be updated with commissioned chapter covers as they are completed by the artist. I know it seems cheesy to give your fanfic artwork, but this is a passion project for me and the commissions come as a perk with my Patron level, so what the heck!
> 
> Also, please leave feedback and tell me what you think! I honestly didn't expect the interaction with Larry to go where it did, but the muse just sort of took over and the story just seemed to lead there.


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